


Following The Fanfare

by draconianvenable



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Archery, F/F, Royalty, Tags to be added, cordelia is a princess, misty is basically aladdin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 06:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18231362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draconianvenable/pseuds/draconianvenable
Summary: Misty Day likes her life in the swamps. It's all she's ever had, and she's cherished it until money started getting tight and resources started running low.When the kingdom of Eleria holds an archery competition for the princess's hand in marriage, Misty figures that it could be her ticket out of poverty and a solution to all her problems, but she doesn't know how long she can survive in the guise of a man.Between Misty's daring plan and Cordelia's personal issues piling up, will the two be able to prevail over the mess of the Elerian kingdom?





	Following The Fanfare

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my very first fanfic on ao3 and I'm really looking forward to developing this story and sharing it on here! any comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy these medieval lesbians!

“Delia? Are you off in that damn greenhouse again?” 

Cordelia was off in the greenhouse. Her emerald green dress swayed as she moved from plant to plant, enjoying the feeling of the thin skirt that she was usually forbidden from wearing in public against her legs. The princess examined each of the newly grown comfrey that had begun sprouting up in their respective pots. She had planted the comfrey when the freezing temperatures of winter had started to wilt and make room for the blossoming springtime. She enjoyed growing it because of the many healing properties and how strong it grew. It amused her to grow a plant so beneficial yet poisonous in large amounts. 

Princess Cordelia Goode was the only heir to the Elerian throne. She knew it, the people of Eleria knew it, and mostly importantly, the queen knew it. Queen Fiona Goode had inherited the throne after her husband had disappeared, presumably not wanting to be the subject of the Queen’s wrath any longer. Cordelia couldn’t blame her father.

Fiona propelled the door open and Cordelia’s thoughts of poisonous herbs dissipated, for nothing could’ve been more poisonous than the air whenever the vicious queen entered a room. The calm energy that usually resided in the greenhouse seemed to dwindle the moment she stepped across threshold.

“I thought I told you to start getting ready,” Fiona snapped. A sense of dread overcame Cordelia as she groaned. She knew how the agenda went; every day would bring a new set of asshole men eager to marry her. They were all the same, flaunting their riches about like it was the only thing that mattered. In their eyes, she didn’t even matter, just her fortune. 

The whole process of succession irked Cordelia. Being expected to marry someone she didn’t know and give birth to a royal son as soon as possible in order for him to take the throne when the queen or king inevitably died sent shivers down her back.

“The suitors aren’t due to arrive until seven! Could you at least give me some freedom before then?” Cordelia responded. Fiona walked over to where Cordelia had stationed herself in front of a desk.

“Why, so you can spend more time mucking around with your silly flowers? You’re pathetic, Delia.” Despite her clear distaste for Cordelia’s wasting of time, she stepped away from the princess’s array of plants. Fiona found it severely difficult to put up with Cordelia’s aversion towards the many suitors that came to try and win her heart each day, but she found that if she aggravated her daughter too much, she would refuse to see any of the men whatsoever. “Be ready by six-thirty,” Fiona cautioned her way out of the room. 

Cordelia waited until she could no longer hear her mother’s heels clicking on the palace floors to let out the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t let herself shed any tears. After all, she had pathetic men to greet. 

———

As seven came and went, so did the suitors. With a fuming Fiona at her side, Cordelia dismissed each of the suitors the moment they started talking about money. As she watched the last suitor and their troop of servants exit the palace, her mother piped up again.

“I can’t believe you still refuse to marry,” Fiona criticized. Cordelia spun in her chair to face her mother.

“It’s not that I refuse, none of the men are right for me!” she retaliated.

“What man could be right for you? You’re utterly selfish, Delia. You only care about yourself and your plants and don’t give two shits about our kingdom.” Cordelia felt herself seething at her mother’s harsh words.

“Why should I care about this stupid kingdom? Why should I continue your goddamn lineage?” Cordelia nearly roared the cruel words out at Fiona. Fiona paced around the table taking deep breaths before returning to look Cordelia in the eye.

“You will get married, Cordelia,” Fiona said in a voice so grave and contrasting to her usual tone, it shook Cordelia, “and be a happy bride by this time next week.” The color drained from Cordelia’s face. Fiona had been cruel, but to force her to marry? That was criminal. “We will hold an archery tournament for your suitors with your hand in marriage as the prize.”

“This isn’t fair,” Cordelia objected.

“No, you are the one that isn’t being fair. You’ve turned down every man that’s turned up at a door. You will marry the winner of this tournament and birth an heir fit to continue our line,” Fiona declared and signaled a servant over to spread the word, “Let the whole kingdom know of their chance to become royalty.” The servant quickly copied down her message and dutifully scurried off to send the news out.

As the sun set beneath the rows of buildings stretching out for miles and the cypress trees framing the kingdom, Cordelia walked to her bedroom, her uncomfortable heels straining against her feet and clicking on the palace floors.

———

It was a Sunday, which was the day of Misty’s weekly trip into the city. She’d prefer to stay at her little shack in the swamp at all times, but she couldn’t live off of bugs alone. She wouldn’t dare to kill any creature bigger than that, innocent animals didn’t deserve to die. Her outings usually just included gathering fresh water from the stream that ran through the kingdom stealing what she could from the marketplace before venturing back to the swamp on a hike.

Misty Day didn’t like to think about money. Of course, she knew it was needed to survive, but she didn’t want her life to revolve around her wealth and tried to avoid it as much as she possibly could. Stealing may not have been much better, but she figured it was at least superior to being captivated by money alone.

This particular Sunday trip, however, took a turn for Misty. Among the streams of people moving from stand the stand, a small crowd gathered in front of a messenger in the center of the square.

“…The man who wins the archery competition held next Sunday will, in turn, win the princess’s hand in marriage and join the royal family,” the royal messenger announced, reading from a scroll of paper. 

Murmurs were audible throughout the crowd as Misty contemplated what this meant to her. Winning an archery match and marrying the princess? That kind of opportunity could mean endless fortune and riches, enough to buy her countless loaves of bread. She knew she had the archery skills to win it. It would be too easy for her.

But, Misty thought, I’m no man. As much as she’d like to marry a beautiful woman and be able to never worry about money, she knew a woman couldn’t marry another woman. The whole point was to continue the royal line with children and for a man to rule.

Besides, the princess was probably a spoiled brat who took everything she had for granted. Misty knew it would be hell to live with her.

Dejected, Misty turned from the dispersing crowd and went to go about discreetly gathering as much food as she could. As she walked past a stand selling ornate mirrors, she pulled her hair back and caught her reflection in a particular mirror with a gold frame and made sure she looked inconspicuous enough.

The rest of Misty’s shopping run went smoothly enough. She was able to snag a few loaves of bread and even the discarded head of a smoked cod. However, as she reached for an apple, a threatening-looking vendor glared at her.

“Are you going to pay for that, sir?” he asked. Misty’s eyes widened and she set down the piece of fruit.

“I- uh, sorry,” she managed to answer before dashing off with her armful of goodies.

———

As Misty trekked back to her shack in the swamps, she couldn’t help but think about the encounter with the vendor. He called her “sir,” and that had sent her mind running. She knew that she was a girl, she had been her entire life, but if a stranger saw her as a guy, then why couldn’t the royal family see her as one too?

With thoughts still swirling along in her head, Misty trudged through the marsh up to her modest shack and picked up a small hand mirror she had found a few weeks ago.

She studied herself in the mirror. Her features certainly looked androgynous enough with her hair pulled back. She was sure that she could fool most onlookers into thinking she was male. As for the princess, Misty had spent enough of her life dealing with rich people who flaunted their luxurious lives in her face. At least this time, she would be on the same level as them.

Misty made a decision. On Sunday, she would win the archery competition and marry the princess. She pulled her blonde ponytail tighter and scrunched her face into the manliest expression she could pull off.


End file.
